Where There Be Dragons
by highschooled
Summary: A little diddy for and about General Iroh II. Will be Iroh II/Korra, later.


Where There Be Dragons

Chapter 1: Death + Life

* * *

On the day his great-great uncle dies, Prince Iroh falls in love.

She is the daughter of a village tradesman, and she is beautiful and wonderfully elusive. Prince Iroh wants nothing more than to learn her name, to taste it against his tongue.

That day, his great-great uncle Iroh, a brittle 119 years, dies peacefully in his sleep.

The Prince never does find out her name.

* * *

It's different when his father dies. He is only a boy of ten then, but he remembers everything.

He remembers standing beside a staircase, his small hands wrapped around a cool banister as he watches his father's thick figure engulfed in red flames. He can still make out the words forming on his father's lips (something urgent, something important, he thinks) before – nothing. He wonders how something so _solid_ can disappear so quickly. Broad shoulders and thick hips replaced by greasy ashes in seconds.

The attacker, a firebender with gold eyes, smiles at him as he does it, his eyes like gleaming coals in the fire.

* * *

At the funeral, Iroh watches as his father's casket is lowered into the ground and lit ablaze. As he watches, transfixed as the flames engulf the casket of his father's remains, he can't help but remember the flames that engulfed his father in the first place - and the firebender that brought them. The ceremonial leader, a severe looking man in ornate robes, says that the flames are a long revered tradition of the mighty Fire Nation and that they symbolize rebirth, the beginning of a new life elsewhere in a new world. He speaks in dull voice with words that Iroh cannot understand, so Iroh does not listen.

"Fire is a confounding thing." Iroh turns at the sound of a new, familiar voice. It is his grandfather, the Fire Lord Zuko. Iroh does make a move to greet his grandfather, so Zuko simply continues: "Fire is confounding, but it is not so bad, Iroh. Fire is death, but fire is also life. What consumed your father in this world, will also give him life in the next. Remember that, young Iroh."

Iroh does not understand. His father is dead. He begins to cry.

* * *

After his father dies, Iroh decides that enough is enough.

"Show me that move, again," he says to Master Ruzo.

The masters are surprised (as masters wont not to be, but often are), but grateful for Iroh's apparently change of heart. Before the … _most regrettable _incident with fire-bender that killed Prince Bumi, the masters had never seen Iroh care in the slightest about his training, studying or his princely duties. It was always some fabricated excuse. The masters listened impatiently as Iroh, his eyes full of youthful exuberance, recounted the game or toy or friend that was more important than his scheduled training session.

After his father dies, everything changes. He excels at everything the masters ask of him. The military strategy, the history lessons, the bending practices. Who knew, all this time, Prince Iroh was such a _prodigy_?

"Again," demands the Prince. His shoulders are set; his eyes are calm. In this moment, he is the image everything a prince should be. Master Ruzo complies.

The masters tell his mother that they've never seen such determination and tenacity from a boy, especially from a boy of only ten.

Iroh's mother begins to cry.

* * *

On the day of his great uncle's funeral, Prince Iroh is promoted to Colonel of the United Forces. He's sixteen.

He attends the funeral dressed in his uniform, fitted with the stripes and shiny accolades that accompany his newly acquired rank. His hair is slick and his shoulders fill out his uniform in an unfamiliar way.

He feels a tugging at his hands and finds Azar and Aki, his younger brother and sister, attached to his hands.

He does not cry. He does not think it becoming of a soldier to cry.

_The Dragon of the West is gone,_ he thinks.

_Gone, but never far._ Prince Iroh can almost hear his great great uncle's predicable reply. He almost smiles at the _expectedness_ of it. _A flower does not die completely. It is merely reborn again in the next season, the next cycle._

_The dragon is alive in you, Price Iroh. _

His uncle's tomb erupts into flames, and he can feel the heat against his skin. He imagines the fire is coming from the wide-mouthed depths of a dragon, breathing life into him.

* * *

It's the anniversary of his father's death - ten long years that have brought Iroh from boy to man - when he receives the wire from the Avatar, requesting the support of the United Forces.

The wire is grim. The city is in danger, and Iroh moves quickly.

He tells the attendant to inform the Avatar of their imminent arrival, and that he plans on reclaiming the city, with their united efforts. His attendant gives a curt salute and dutifully rushes off to type a quick reply to the Avatar.

The Avatar. _Korra._ It's been three long years since he last saw the Avatar, but Prince Iroh remembers. He remember her well. He's never pegged her for a hapless girl in need of rescuing. He knows the situation must be dire for her to ask so candidly for his assistance.

His lips curl into an imperceptible smile. "I thought you'd never ask, old friend."

Prince Iroh turns his eyes sky-ward and admires the hot glare of the sun. He is ready.

* * *

A/N: I saw the face of Iroh II; I knew it must be written. As per usual, I don't own the Legend of Korra or any of its character offspring. I don't own General Iroh II. But god, if I did...

Reviews are appreciated! This is kind of my first foray into the world of writing fanfiction. Iroh stirs the muse, I suppose.


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